Confessions of a Fangirl
by DL-Blanca
Summary: A little heart-to-heart with His Majesty, the King under the Mountain AKA just a few thoughts that have been rattling in my brain since seeing DoS for the first time.


**I'm scared, Thorin.**

I know what you think; you don't have to give me THAT look.

What do I have to be afraid of? Seated in the comfort of my own home snuggled in a blanket, a book or two on my lap and that weird thing with moving pictures on the wall in front of me. No dragon, no danger, no adventure.

**But you see, Thorin, I am not scared for myself. Oh no.**

_I've known you for quite a while now. You first literally fell into my life the way your bookverse you fell headfirst into the snuggly hobbithole of one Bilbo Baggins. You were clad in a blue hood and armed with a golden harp that played an enchanting tune. And I've joined your quest with far more enthusiasm than your somewhat hapless burglar. _

They have taken the harp from you. And your coat is not a sky-blue hood. But that I've forgiven. Because when the door in the movieverse opens, suddenly you are so much more than a character in a children's story. And when you start singing… even without the harp I would follow you to the void itself, if you asked me to.

_I've seen you lead the Company before. Sure, you were officious at times and you were not always the best leader one could hope for. But you were the one with the vision. And you were a warrior, always ready to fight for your men. Fight the trolls, get the Orcrist, take the good-natured taunts of Rivendell elves, fight your way out of the Goblin town and almost burn in the tree under which Orcs were grating their songs._

Now I see you through Balin's eyes, picking up the oaken branch at Azanulbizar – turning from prince to king, from broken to unstoppable. I see you risking everything and laying down your weapon because you wouldn't abandon the one you refused to be responsible for. I see you stepping up against the Goblin king, because you won't have any of your Company threatened. And I know, Thorin. I know why your men follow you. I know, why you can claim that you can ask no more than loyalty, honor and willing heart of them. Because that is what you yourself give. I see you moved by the words of your burglar. I see you desperate, as the trees crash and with them all hope seems lost.

And I see you determined. As you face down that specter from your past, I know what you are thinking. That if it is the last thing you do in your life, you will finish this business once and for all. I see you fall and my heart goes out to you, just as little Bilbo rushes to your aid. And then your Company repays your loyalty as they join the fight, shielding your lifeless body with their attack.

And I love them for it, Thorin. And I love you for inspiring such devotion.

_I've entered Beorn's house with you, with deep bows, and heart beating so hard it almost jumped out of my ribcage. I've watched the company arrive one by one and couldn't help but chuckle. I've listened to Gandalf's story and let out a huge sigh of relief as Beorn agreed to help you and even was – very grudgingly – impressed by your tale. I've seen you being stubborn – and admittedly a bit stupid – about the ponies that were lent to you. But I've seen you keep presence of mind even in the face of disaster in Mirkwood, as Bombur fell into the enchanted stream. And I've seen you commanding and undefeated facing the Elvenking and his prison. Set apart from the rest, because you are deemed dangerous._

But now, you are running both from the Orcs – eventhough the eagles' flight should have thrown them off your scent – and from Beorn, a mad dash for your very lives. Now, for some reason, there is no tale of common goal, no grudging approval. Just a common enemy and more hatred for him than for you. You don't argue about the ponies and you don't argue about Gandalf leaving you – you act as if it were inevitable. And then you are blundering, losing your way and almost losing your mind. Captured first by the spiders and then by elves. And I see Kili being apart from the rest of the Company, and I ask why? How come your youngest is left behind?

They take the Orcrist from you and I want to scream. You are taken to Thranduil and I see my king again when you start speaking. I see your proud and unbroken spirit in face of Balin's resignation. You speak of hope, and I want to embrace you, because I know you trust Bilbo. The only thing I can't comprehend is why you abide by Kili sweet-talking the elf-maiden. But maybe there is an escape plan B in that?

_I've seen you trust your burglar enough to let yourselves be sealed into barrels. I've seen you emerge half-drowned after the crazy ride, in need of sustenance, warmth and rest. And yet, I've been so proud of you, walking with your head raised high, up to the Master of Laketown, announcing your right to the Throne of Erebor – and presenting your sister-sons as your rightful heirs. I've been cheering you on together with the people of Laketown, I've seen feasts thrown in your favor, and I've known the ballads their bards sang of you by heart._

Escaping Elvenking's halls was never more fun. Except for the arrow. I know you can't see it, Thorin, the arrow that finds target in Kili's leg. My heart gives an unpleasant lurch as it is broken by his jump into the barrel. But then it's all well as you fight your way through Orcs. Bombur and his amazing stunt, the teamwork as you cut the branch overhead… everything is just awesome. And then you see – you see Kili is hurt. And you snap at Bofur for wanting him treated. I know there is little time, Thorin. I know you are not safe. But he is your nephew and he is in trouble. Why don't you care more?

I see you distrustful of Bard – and I can't blame you. I see you having your own mind and not caring who gets caught in the windfall. And I can't blame you. But you are still uncaring and blind where Kili is concerned. And I want to yell at you for that. I see you taken in front of the Master and this time it is not you but Dwalin, who steps up and announces to the people your real identity. What are you waiting for, Thorin? Of course, when you start talking, once again you are the king. The leader to follow. You hold them enchanted, drinking in your every word. And I stand fully in your corner as you tell Bard you have the only right to enter the Mountain. But haven't you forgotten something, Thorin? It is not just you. Your company stands right behind you – and yes, you play the crowds, but are they – are Fili and Kili – so wholly unimportant right now?

_I've seen you being deeply suspicious of the people who are singing your praises. I've watched you depart the town and be relieved by it. I've looked for the hidden door with you, silently chanting the words from the map. I've seen the door open and I've ran down the corridors with Bilbo. I've seen Smaug awaken and I've seen him leave the Mountain without a fight._

Why no one – not even his kin – cared about Bofur enough to wake him up in time when you left Laketown, I will never quite understand. But it is probably a good thing, all things considered. Because you leave Kili behind. And I am dumbfounded. Your words hurt – do you realize that, Thorin? Talking to him as if he is just a hindrance. Leaving him with people you must know you cannot trust. And I know you are so close! So close to your goal now, you can't stop. And I know there is no time to spare, Thorin. But at this moment I want to see that king I saw earlier. I want to see the one putting the weapon down to save a burglar's life. I want to see the one giving himself up to the Goblin king again. And he is gone. He is not there and it breaks my heart. You take Kili's words about seeing Erebor so lightly! Do you know you are leaving him to die amongst strangers? Oin knows. And loyalty or not he knows his place and his task – so he stays behind. As does Fili. Does it hurt, Thorin? Does it hurt to see the incomprehension and pain in their eyes? Does it hurt to see your heir's determination? As much as I love you, my king, I hope it gnaws on your heart and haunts you. Third of your Company gone without even a skirmish – how did you let that happen?

I see you losing faith and last glimmer of hope. I see the key fall from your hand, both your past and your future forgotten, forlorn. But Bilbo has a solution – he always does. And so you are in Erebor and my heart breaks as I see you so deeply touched. And at that moment, I can almost forgive you.

Bilbo and Smaug have their exchange. Do you realize how much your burglar came to care for you, Thorin? You don't. Because you are blinded by the shine of a jewel you haven't seen in sixty years.

When you decide to make a stand – amongst your dead kin – you are once again majestic. And I can imagine burning with you – for you. Once again the cunning warrior, intent on slaying the beast, you lead your diminished numbers forth. And faced with the stupendous, larger-than-life golden statue that must be the last reminder and last monument of Thror I have to wonder, what you feel, Thorin. Because I am awed by the audacity and size of the design, but at the same time a little repulsed by the pride and narcissism of it. I hope it warns you at least a bit.

_I've seen what happened next, Thorin._

_Even as a little girl, I've argued with you, reasoned with you. My heart hurt as I saw you turn from the leader and warrior to a selfish and self-centered dwarf, blinded by the treasure hoard. I've seen you in the Battle, Thorin. And I've cried over you so many times. Because it was all so unfair. Because despite everything, in the end you were the king and the hero I wanted you to be. And I was outraged, I admit. Outraged, because I didn't understand. I couldn't understand why Fili and Kili had to die too – they were so young and it was so pointless – but I've always admired them for loving you so much they wanted to protect you no matter what. _

_I hated seeing Dáin take the throne you and your men fought so hard for. I hated seeing the rest of the company simply pushed out of the game; omitted, forgotten after all they went through. But at least they were together. The Company never broken, never divided – somehow that was at least a little consolation._

Now the dragon is gone, threatening Laketown – you remember Laketown, don't you? The wooden hamlet where you left your nephews, your heirs. The heirs who are in mortal danger now – and there is nothing you can do about it.

**So I am scared, Thorin.**

Because I thought I knew you. And what I knew of you, I liked. Now I don't see it and it makes me tremble.

I thought I knew how things are to go. But it turns out I was wrong. I know nothing, and it fills me with fear.

I am scared Kili will never see Erebor.

I am scared Fili will never set foot in the halls of his forefathers.

I am scared I will never see my kind and caring, loyal, honest King with a willing heart again.

**So tell me, Thorin, can you set my mind at ease? Or am I right to be afraid?**

_**A/N: I own nothing, except my own opinions, and I stand by them. **_

_**So… tell me what do YOU think about it? Do you like where Thorin is going? Do you like how Desolation turned out? Let me know in Reviews and PMs – I'll be glad to have different point of views (cause, frankly, I'm going a little crazy from arguing with myself).** _


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